


heavy metal, show me you care

by insomniacjams



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American Diner AU, First Time, Harry is only mentioned, I kind of forgot about him, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniacjams/pseuds/insomniacjams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The American Diner AU that was meant to be a PWP and turned into so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heavy metal, show me you care

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ultramarinus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultramarinus/gifts).



> This was written to:  
> a) Kill [Nene](https://twitter.com/talkativepeach) dead  
> b) express my love for boys in Napalm Death t-shirts
> 
> Title from Rock Me by One Direction.  
> Disclaimer: I am neither American nor British, I've never worked in a diner, and I've never had anal sex.
> 
> Enjoy.

Liam should've known the moment he got to work that it was destined to be an awful day. He stepped through the door of Paul's Diner, listened to the bell chime through the din of customers, walked into the kitchen, and was promptly sprayed with a jet of ice cold water.

"Louis!" Liam didn't normally yell; Liam didn't normally consider himself above any of the staff, even though his nametag said "supervisor" on it (without proper capitalization, but he has a title, so he doesn't complain). However, Louis, self-proclaimed "Master of the Dish Pit", Tomlinson warranted yelling.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I thought you were Harry," he defended himself quickly. "I, uh-"

"That was my only work shirt, Louis," Liam sighed, rolling his eyes and peeling it off before the water could soak into his pants. "Also, just because you thought I was Harry, that doesn't mean you're allowed to go spraying people with water – which, by the way, Harry shouldn't be allowed in the back anyway."

"But it's Harry," Louis frowned, like his argument made sense to anyone but him. Liam just glared at him pointedly, and Louis sighed. "I have a shirt you can wear. It'll be a bit small on you, freak, but it'll do." 

Liam watched as Louis scuttled into the office area where they left their things, and triumphantly returned with a t-shirt. "I won this at a gig last night, so it's actually brand new. It doesn't even smell like me." 

"Cool," Liam sighed, taking the shirt in resignation. As he pulled it over his head (a bit tight around the shoulders, and just a hair's breadth away from too short), he wrinkled his nose. "It doesn't smell like you but it sure as fuck smells like weed, Louis."

"Oh it's not that bad," Louis said, leaning over and taking a deep sniff of Liam's shoulder. "Yeah, it's not that bad," he confirmed with a nod, reaching above the sink to where they kept the bottle of air freshener.

"Lou, don't-" Liam started, but it was too late, as Louis was already spraying a thick film of "Moonlit Lavender" into the air around Liam to mask the scent of weed. "Great, now I smell like weed _and_ a fucking artificial flower shop."

"Artificial flower shops don't smell like lavender, silly," Louis grinned, putting the bottle back where he found it. "Now get to work, boss."

"Normally I'd just ask you to trade jobs for the day so I don't have to go out there in this t-shirt – what is this t-shirt anyway? But I don't want to unleash you to the public."

"I should probably never hold a job in customer service," Louis agreed casually. "That shirt, er, I don't know, actually. I was at some metal gig with Harry last night and the record store downtown was giving away shirts – basically I picked up the only one that didn't have, like, blood and shit on it. S'not bad, really – black, and just a logo."

"It's, erm, different," Liam sighed, glancing down. He's not even sure what the logo says. 

"What the fuck are you doing, Liam? We need you out front!" Paul called from deeper within the kitchen, and Liam just groaned. 

"Sorry Paul, just had a bit of an accident and had to change my shirt." Liam clipped his nametag onto the new t-shirt, wrapped his apron on around his hips, plastered a smile on his face and went to brave the Sunday breakfast crowd.

Thankfully, Sunday mornings were usually filled with regulars, and Liam relayed the story to multiple customers about how the dishwasher shouldn't be allowed near the hose to explain his t-shirt, so he didn't receive much grief about being out of uniform.

The morning went fast, with Liam busing tables on autopilot and making small talk with his favourite customers (old Mrs. Laughton who owned six cats and talked of them like children, Danielle, the owner of the bakery down the road where Harry worked, and Perrie, the hairdresser from the salon next door). He caught up on the local gossip in which he feigned interest, and by the end of the morning when business always lulled to a near standstill, he figured his shirt would be dry enough to wear.

"Li, can you seat this guy? I've got my hands full," Jesy called from the counter, and Liam sighed, like she'd just read his mind and planned to divert him from his (hopefully) dry clothing. 

"Yeah," he sighed, trudging to the front of the diner and plastering a smile on his face yet again. "Table for one?" He asked the guy without looking up from the shoes (combat boots with neon green shoelaces tied in neat knots around the ankle, tongues hanging out). 

"Two please," the guy responded, his voice low and gravelly, like he'd had a long night and just woke up from a fitful sleep. Liam nodded and beckoned him to follow as he led the guy to a booth in the corner. He didn't look up until he drops the menu in front of the callused hands resting casually on the table, long fingers entwined, and then he cursed himself for not looking before.

The guy was gorgeous, with sharp cheekbones that could cut like knives, thick eyelashes that brushed his cheeks from his half-lidded, bloodshot eyes, and a smattering of colourful tattoos colouring his tanned olive skin, peeking out from under a sleeveless t-shirt. He had a half-smoked cigarette tucked carefully behind his left ear, Liam noticed as an afterthought.

"Could I start you with any drinks, or do you want to wait for your friend?" Liam asked, keeping his voice steady and professional despite how he was screaming on the inside. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Louis hovering at the door, peering through the small window, like he was trying to get a better look at the customer.

"I'll just have a black coffee please," the guy said, polite despite the way he ran his hands exasperatedly through his thick, tousled black hair. "Sorry mate, I'm just having a bit of an off morning," he added, dropping his hand back to the table. "Don't let me get my bad mood all over you."

"Don't worry, I don't think it's catching," Liam gave him a shy smile as he went to turn away and grab the coffee, along with his dry shirt. 

"Wait," the guy called for Liam and he turned again, expecting a request for a glass of water or something similar. Instead, the guy said, "I really like Napalm Death, but I get the feeling it's not really part of the uniform. You into them?" He looked slightly more awake then, his eyes open wide enough for Liam to see the flecks of gold and green swimming amongst the brown, a smirk quirking at his lips.

Liam was confused at first, but as he looked down at his chest, the he could make out the letters of the logo partially hidden under his "Liam Payne | supervisor" nametag. "Yeah, I, uh, yeah. They're great," he lied quickly. "I'll just, uh, I'll grab your coffee now," he stuttered out before his brain-to-mouth filter shut off completely and he could say something even stupider.

"Sex on legs," Louis said the minute Liam marched into the kitchen, breathing like he'd just run a marathon.

"You can say that again," Liam grunted, putting his head in his hands.

"Alright, what did you do?" Louis asked him, shaking his head and laughing silently to himself.

"I might've told him I like Napalm Death."

"Who?"

"This shirt," he rolled his eyes at Louis. "I don't even fucking know who Napalm Death are! I said they were great, Louis. Why did I say they were great?"

"Maybe if you could stop staring at his cheekbones for, like, two seconds you would've let your brain back online," Louis snorted. "Now shouldn't you be bringing him a drink?"

"Right," Liam shot out of the chair he'd dropped himself into and crossed the kitchen to grab a cup of fresh coffee.

"You know," Louis said conversationally, "It's really quiet right now. You could, I dunno, have a chat, yeah?"

"I don't think I should be allowed to open my mouth again today," Liam said, and then immediately smacked his head against the wall, because he knew what was coming.

"You're right," Louis grinned sardonically. He then yanked the roll of duct tape off the desk, ripped off a strip, and slapped it across Liam's lips before Liam had even taken two steps with the coffee. Louis then proceeded to push him back out into the diner, which was completely empty save for the guy with the perfect face. And Liam was standing there with duct tape over his mouth.

Because at least one thing in life had to go Liam's way, he managed not to spill the coffee all over the table as he set it down. He went to grab his notepad to take the guy's order, but then remembered he couldn't speak through the tape on his lips and winced, holding up a finger to indicate he'd be right back, determined not to peel his face off in front of a customer.

"Let me help you with that," the guy said quickly.

Before Liam could back away from the table, the guy stood and yanked the tape from his mouth – he winced as he felt the skin of his lips come off with it, and the coppery taste of blood invaded his mouth as he licked them.

"Thanks," he choked out, blinking the cloud of pain away as he forced a smile. "Now, uh, what can I get for you?"

"I'm still undecided, actually," he said, and if it weren't for his eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the diner, Liam would've mourned the loss of his dignity slightly more. "What would you recommend?" 

"Get the classic breakfast," another voice crashed into their conversation without warning, and Liam startled, jumping slightly as Niall squeezed him around the middle in a whirlwind of a hug before doing the same to the guy at the booth. "Morning Zayn, hi Liam," he added, grinning.

 _Zayn_ , Liam made a mental note of his name. And really, Liam wasn't surprised Niall knew the guy – Niall knew everyone, his friends hiding in every corner of the city. "Morning Niall," he rolled his eyes. "I was wondering when you'd wake up."

"I make it here before you close every weekend, and that's what matters, right?" Niall laughed. He worked at The Irish Pub (yes, that was the name of the pub) down the road and was often out until early hours of morning because of it, but he always, without a doubt, started his weekend mornings at Paul's Diner.

"So, I see you've met Liam," he added to Zayn, grinning. "Liam's, like, the best server on the planet and he puts up with me, so I guess he's alright."

"Your usual then?" Liam held back his laugh as he watched Niall nod his head enthusiastically in agreement, jotting "Niall" down on his notepad even though he didn't have to, just to keep his hands busy.

"Get the classic, you won't regret it," Niall told Zayn, who looked helplessly at Liam. 

"He's right," Liam laughed. "He's been coming here since before I moved stateside, so he'd know better than me."

"Then I'll take the classic," Zayn agreed, easily answering Liam's questions about his preferences. "Thanks, Leeeeeyum," Zayn grinned, dragging out his name as Liam made to back away from the table.

"Hey, wait," Niall called before Liam could leave, and he let out a sigh, thinking he was going to be held captive at the booth forever (once Niall started talking, he didn't stop). "I know you're off soon, and we're headed to this free concert downtown if you want to come with."

"Yeah, sure," Liam sighed, because he hadn't possessed the ability to deny Niall anything since they'd met, years ago. "Now let me go tell them to make your food."

"Right, food," Niall chirped. "See you in a bit, Li!"

Liam backed into the kitchen again only to run into Louis who was standing at the doors, clutching a dirty plate to his chest. "Did I hear that right? You're going out with him after?"

"Why were you eavesdropping?" Liam sighed, handing the order over to the cook. 

"I've got nothing better to do," Louis defended himself by gesturing to the empty sinks. "I mean, really, this place isn't that busy right now."

"Right," Liam sighed, sinking into the office chair again. "So we're supposed to be going to a free concert. Where the bands probably sound like Napalm Death."

"Bands that sound like Napalm Death probably don't play free concerts," Louis snorted, "and if they did, it definitely wouldn't be downtown."

"You're right," Liam sighed. "But they're probably going to want to talk about music. And I don't know shit about music! You know how Niall is – he can go off about guitar tone for hours."

"Niall's also insane," Louis rolled his eyes. "I mean, honestly, the guy's sex on legs. Did I say that already? I probably did. But Niall knows him, and wants you to go to a concert with him. Go to the damn concert."

"Right," Liam repeated, and jumped out of his seat when the cook called the order out. 

"It's really crowded down there already," Niall was saying as Liam approached the table with their food. "Look at this," he said, turning his phone to Liam and Zayn, scrolling through pictures on Facebook. "There's, like, a massive crowd in front of the stage and the good bands don't even play for, like, three hours."

"So, uh, here's some hot sauce," Liam mumbled, choosing to ignore Niall's statement about the crowds. He dropped the bottle on the table, but just as he was about to spit out a robotic "Enjoy your meal," Niall interrupted him.

"What's with the shirt, dude? Did you just feel like breaking dress code today?"

"Had a bit of an accident this morning with the sinks," Liam forced a smile. "I had to wear something, right?"

"Well, you don't have to-" Zayn started, but Niall interrupted him.

"But I think the customers would've enjoyed it if you didn't bother to change. You know, I bet that white uniform really looks good on you when it's soaking wet. At least, Zayn here would've liked it."

"Really? I was under the impression that Zayn liked this shirt," Liam rolled his eyes.

"I didn't realize how good my other option was," Zayn grinned cheekily as he took a gulp of his coffee. 

"Anyway," Niall chirped brightly, clearly ignoring the tension in the air, "When are you off?"

"In about forty minutes," Liam said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"We'll be out front when we're done," Niall said, nodding to a car parked outside Liam figured was Zayn's. "Go do your end of shift shit – don't let us waste your time."

"Right," Liam nodded. "See you guys in a bit, and uh, enjoy your meal," he croaked out before practically running back into the kitchen. 

"So, I see Liam has managed to cheer you up considerably from when I called you this morning," he heard Niall's voice drift through the open doors, but Zayn's response was too quiet, his voice low, and Liam couldn't make out the words.

"Now who's eavesdropping?" Louis asked with a laugh, dropping his chin onto Liam's shoulder as he stood on his tiptoes to stare out the doors as well. "Are they saying anything interesting?"

"No, not really," Liam sighed. "Go do your dishes, Lou."

"Go do your end of shift organizing," Louis said, hip-checking Liam into the tiny office.

"Shut up, both of you, and do your jobs," Paul bellowed from somewhere in the kitchen. Liam and Louis both shared a look before cracking up, and moving to their respective stations.

"So," Louis appeared over Liam's shoulder as he was finishing up his shift and preparing to clock out. "You can keep the shirt."

"What? Oh," Liam sighed, looking down to see that he'd never changed back into his work uniform. "I actually forgot I was wearing that."

"Well, it seemed to work for you," Louis made a face, "and it's not like I'll ever wear a Napalm Death t-shirt anyway. Now go hangout with Niall and the cheekbones."

"His name is Zayn," Liam said before he could stop himself.

"Oh, you guys are on a first name basis now, hey?" Louis let out a cackle. Liam bit his lip to stop himself from saying more.

"Shouldn't have let him take that tape off," he muttered under his breath.

"That's probably a good idea," Louis said pensively, and then in a flash, he'd pinned Liam to the wall, tied his wrists behind his back with some loose string in the office, and slapped another strip of tape over his mouth. Liam let out a grunt in protest, but Louis was unsympathetic as he shoved Liam's bag into his hands and marched him out the front doors.

Zayn was sitting on the hood of his car smoking a cigarette, while Niall sat on the roof fiddling with his phone. "You alright?" Zayn asked, raising an eyebrow.

Liam could only grunt from under the tape as he tried to wrangle his hands free. "Oh, Louis tied up your hands, let me get that," Niall sighed, hopping off the car as Liam dropped his bag so Niall could work the string off. "I don't understand that one," Niall sighed.

"Who's Louis?" Zayn asked as he, for the second time in an hour, ripped duct tape from Liam's lips (Liam felt like he wasn't going to _have_ lips at the end of the day). He felt Zayn's finger brush against the sensitive skin for just a second before he stepped back.

"An irrelevant asshole," Liam answered the same time as Niall rolled his eyes and said, "Just the dishwasher."

"Right," Zayn rolled his eyes and tossed the ball of tape into the nearby trash bin, stomped out his cigarette butt, and gestured to the car. "Shall we?"

Niall gladly offered up the passenger seat to Liam as he scrambled into the back, attention focused back on the phone. "Got any music?" Niall called from the back as Zayn pulled out of the parking lot.

"Hey Liam, you can open the glove box – there's a bunch of CD's in there. You can throw in whatever you want." He rifled through the stack, trying to make sense of the illegible logos and frowning. He could feel Zayn watching him from the corner of his eye, so he grabbed a CD that matched the t-shirt he still wore, and put it in the player.

Liam was prepared for the assault, or at least, he thought it was, but he'd certainly never heard anything in his life that sounded like Napalm Death before. He tried not to wince as Zayn smiled to himself, and reached over to turn it up. Niall sat unfazed in the backseat, nodding his head along to the rapid drumbeat. Liam just squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and tried to ignore the screaming.

"Where should I park?" Zayn asked over the music, and Niall started directing him. Liam twitched in his seat, and fought off the instinct to turn down the music and rub his temples. "Oh, wait, I love this song," Zayn grinned, turning up the music even louder as they parked.

Liam was ready to leap from the car, but Zayn and Niall stayed, heads nodding with the music until at last, the song finished and Zayn finally stepped out. Niall had been right about the crowds; groups of people lay scattered all over the roped off streets of the downtown core when they approached.

There was a large stage set up in the middle of the main street, and people stretched out for what felt like forever in front of it. "Fuck this," Niall hissed from somewhere on Liam's right, and when he turned around, all he could see was Niall's back retreating from the crowd.

"For someone who loves people, the guy sure hates it when they're all in one place," Zayn commented wryly, lighting yet another cigarette. He frowned when Liam instinctively wrinkled his nose though, and snuffed it out on his wrist, tucking it behind his ear afterward.

"Don't stop on my account," Liam told him quickly, but Zayn shook his head.

"No, it's fine, I should've asked – like, I just met you this morning, so I didn't know. I’m sorry – I'm just nervous," he said. Liam raised an eyebrow; he couldn't imagine Zayn being nervous no matter how hard he tried.

"You don't like crowds either?" Liam asked, and Zayn gave him a look of pure bewilderment that passed after a second.

"Yeah, no, uh, crowds, yeah, not my thing," he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Liam frowned and tested his boundaries, placing a hand on the small of Zayn's back and guiding him away from the group in front of the stage off to the grassy area on the side.

"Let's stay here," he decided, and Zayn smiled at him before lazily flopping down onto the grass. "So, how did you meet Niall?" Liam asked, trying to fill the silence with conversation.

"Funny story, we actually met at a Napalm Death show in London, though he was totally there to see the opener," Zayn laughed, his hand pawing absentmindedly through the long blades of grass. Liam lay down next to him, listening as he talked. "I was standing at the edge of the pit, but I wasn't really paying attention, and this fucking crowdsurfer came up and landed on my head."

"Ouch," Liam winced. "I've never been to a concert before – can't imagine what that'd be like." 

"You've never been to a concert?" Zayn gaped at him, and Liam shrugged shyly. 

"School and work kind of ate my life, and when I was done school and just working, it wasn't like I had made myself much of a life anyway. I don't have many friends," he admitted.

Zayn laughed. "Well I've got to take you to a show sometime then, a good one, so you won't be disappointed. Anyway, yeah, that crowdsurfer that landed on my head? That was Niall."

"Shit."

"He found me after the show and bought me a beer, and we've been friends ever since. He's been talking up that fucking diner you work at for centuries, and finally convinced me to come with him – said the food was alright but the hot waiter made him stay." Zayn said, eyes skimming over Liam's body without finesse. 

"Oh my God," Liam gasped. He didn't want to know what colour his face was. 

"He was right," Zayn grinned, biting his bottom lip and swiping his tongue over it a moment later. "The waiter is hot."

"Zaaaaaayn," Liam groaned, covering his face in embarrassment and hoping the grass would open up and swallow his body then and there.

"Hey," Zayn said, gently wrapping his fingers around Liam's hand and tugging it from his face. "C'mon now, don't do that. You know it's true," he frowned. "You do know I'm not just teasing you, right?"

Liam lay there on the grass, Zayn's hand burning in his own, eyes warm and inviting as they peered at him in concern. The most beautiful man Liam had ever laid eyes on was here, on the grass next to him, telling him, the most average guy on the face of the planet, that he was attractive.

The only explanation had to be that Liam wasn't the most average guy that day – he was wearing a Napalm Death t-shirt. It wasn't supposed to make him feel like a superhero, but it'd gotten Zayn's attention – a t-shirt, of all things – and here he was, thinking he'd need a goddamn mask and spandex supersuit to one day earn the interest of anyone who wasn't Louis (who was too far gone for Harry anyway) or Niall (who would do anything on legs, or half legs, or hell, he'd probably do a fish if given the chance). 

"Still in there, Liam?" Zayn's voice startled Liam back from his thoughts, and he frowned.

"Yeah, still here," he confirmed, dropping Zayn's hand and sighing up at the clouds. 

"Good," Zayn said, and in one swift movement, he was lying overtop of Liam, his arms holding him up – and god, did everyone in his life move at warp speed when they felt like it, leaving Liam in the dirt?

"What are you doing, Zayn?" Liam huffed, unconsciously reaching up to wrap his arms around Zayn anyway, spreading his legs so Zayn could settle more comfortably between them. 

"Maybe I just wanted to be closer to you," Zayn hummed, nuzzling into Liam's neck – his nose was cold, pressed against the skin, and Liam couldn't help the involuntary shiver that Zayn surely felt. "I feel like you don’t mind."

"What are you talking about?" Liam asked, pretending he didn't hear his own voice crack mid-sentence.

"Mmm, I think you know what I'm talking about," Zayn giggled, giggled like a goddamn schoolgirl, and shifted his weight to one arm so that he could slide his free hand down Liam's chest to grope him through his pants.

"Zayn, what are you doing?" Liam groaned, trying not to instinctively buck up into his grip.

"Sorry," Zayn was off him just as fast as he had been on, frowning at his shoes as he sat up. "Too forward?"

"I just met you this morning," Liam sighed, "and-" he bit his tongue, hard, thinking about Louis' voice in his head yelling about sex on legs. "Not too forward, because I'd really like to continue what we were doing, just, somewhere far away from all these people, you know?"

"Yeah," Zayn agreed, "I get it." A smile tugged on his lips as he added, "And if I remember correctly, my car is just around the corner, which is slightly better than an open patch of grass. Is that up to standards, Liam?"

"Are you mocking me for not wanting public sex?"

"Sex? Is that what was going to happen?" Zayn asked, quirking an eyebrow as he stood, brushing the grass from his pants and holding out a hand to help Liam up. 

"Well, it can, I mean, I assumed," Liam stuttered, and then flushed. "You're teasing me."

"Maybe a little," Zayn admitted, entwining his fingers with Liam.

"I met you this morning!" Liam reiterated, to which Zayn only laughed.

"You said it wasn't a problem."

"I might've lied," Liam admitted as they approached the car. "Like, you're a nice guy – fuck, you're friends with Niall, so you can't be a bad guy, but I don't, erm, I don't really do this, you know?"

"Have sex with boys you meet at work?"

"Or, like, three hours ago," Liam said, glancing at his watch.

"We don't have to do anything," Zayn said softly, pressing Liam against the car and thumbing appreciatively at his collarbones, "but God would I like to."

"Me too," Liam squeaked out as Zayn sucked in a deep breath next to his ear.

"You're giving me mixed signals here, babe," Zayn sighed, pulling back, "and I don't want to force you."

"You're not going to have to force me into anything," Liam said firmly. "I don't, uh, have a problem with it. I just don't really do this."

"What is this, Liam?" Zayn asked, unlocking the car and guiding Liam into the backseat with a careful hand before falling in after him and locking the door again. 

"Making out in the backseat of a car with a boy that likes Napalm Death," Liam forced out as Zayn laid them down and settled himself on top of Liam's midsection. 

"We're making out now, are we?" Zayn asked, his lips falling dangerously close to Liam's as he leaned forward. "Well I'm going to be honest with you, babe, I don't really do this either." And then Zayn's lips collided with his, and Liam had to remind himself that kissing required effort from both ends and to start moving with Zayn.

What had started out slow and languid gradually grew more frantic as Zayn slipped his hands under Liam's shirt, his fingers dancing against the firm muscles – Liam returned the favour, his own hands disappearing up Zayn's shirt to scratch his nails along the taunt skin of Zayn's back. 

Zayn started rolling his hips against Liam's after a while, in sync with his tongue pressing insistently into Liam's mouth. Liam thrust up best he could from where he lay pressed into the seats, feeling uncoordinated and sloppy, with his movements out of rhythm.

A sharp knocking interrupted them just as Zayn was reaching down and brushing his fingers against the waistband of Liam's jeans – he instinctively jumped, which jostled Zayn, who smacked his head on the ceiling of the car, and groaned.

"What the fuck, guys. Were you just going to leave me here while you fuck in the car?" Niall was glaring at them through the window, arms crossed. If Liam could see Niall's feet from where he lay, he was sure he'd be tapping his left one impatiently. 

"How long have you been standing there watching us?" Zayn asked, not-so-subtly adjusting himself in his pants before unlocking the doors and poking his head out to glare at Niall, his body still splayed atop Liam's.

"Too long," Niall's telltale grimace meant he wasn't lying. Liam sighed, pushing Zayn off him and out of the car. "Let's just get Niall home, yeah?" He asked softly. Zayn grinned, leaning over to give Liam once last kiss.

"Well what do you propose we do after?"

"I've got an empty apartment and the biggest movie collection you've ever seen," Liam attempted to wink at Zayn, who let out a laugh.

"He's not lying," Niall interjected. "I've never seen a movie collection like his. Also, he'll probably watch that Iron Man movie you like so much with you – he's into that whole superhero thing to, yeah?"

"You can stop trying to hook us up now, Niall," Zayn sighed, getting into the driver's seat, leaving Liam in the back as Niall scrambled into the front. "We're probably going to fuck whether or not he likes comic books."

"He does though," Niall laughed, "I'm just saying." He added, "I'm so sorry about your virginity."

He saw Zayn's entire body tense in his seat, back snapping straight and hands clenching around the wheel until his knuckles turned white. "Jesus, calm down," Niall groaned.

"Not a virgin," Liam volunteered, rolling his eyes and dropping his hands on Zayn's shoulder before leaning over and whispering in his ear, "I mean, really, you should know better than to listen to Niall by now."

Zayn sucked in a deep breath and nodded, and Liam grinned, pressing a kiss to the ear, flicking his tongue out momentarily just to watch Zayn shiver. "Right, weren't we leaving?" He asked, dropping back to his seat and grinning as Zayn started the car with shaky hands. (This time, he was ready for the music that came exploding from the sound system).

Niall blathered on about football and some bloke he'd met when he'd disappeared earlier all the way to his apartment – Zayn dumped him on the curb and allowed Liam time to crawl into the front seat before he turned and asked, "Which way to your place?"

The twenty minute drive was quiet, the music drowning out any conversation they could have when Zayn turned it up even higher. When Liam directed Zayn to the parking spot, he hesitated before saying, "I live alone, but, uh, don't be surprised if there's someone in my place – I'll just kick him out."

Zayn raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, following Liam into the building, up the stairs until they reached his place. He sighed, opened the door, and to no surprised, was greeting by Louis sitting on his couch, eating his chips, and playing his Xbox. 

"Right, you, out," Liam sighed, pulling Zayn into the room behind him. 

"Why?" Louis asked through a mouthful of food as he paused the game. As he turned around though, he let out an exaggerated snicker. "Right, hi, cheekbones. I'll get out of your way now – don't break any beds this time, Liam." 

Like that, Louis was breezing past them, exiting the apartment with an unnecessary slam of the door. "Breaking beds?" Zayn asked, raising his eyebrow. Liam flushed and looked at his toes.

"I might've, er, broken my bedframe and put a hole in my wall last time I brought someone home?" 

"I could see that," Zayn grinned, stepping closer to Liam to run his hands along the muscles on Liam's arms and shoulders. "You could do some real damage to someone."

"It wasn't even like that – it was an accident," Liam admitted, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Zayn sighed, reaching up to take Liam's hands and position them onto his own waist. "Like, we kind of slipped and fell? And I think the bed was falling apart anyway."

"C'mon," Zayn laughed, wrapping his arms around Liam's neck and pulling him in close. "I was trying to enjoy the fact that you're strong enough to throw me around, so let me have that, yeah?"

"Oh," Liam frowned. "You mean, you want… Like that?"

Zayn gave Liam a wry smile, pulling back a bit. "We don't have to – not right now, okay? I just, God, I want you."

"My name is Liam but God works fine too," Liam smirked, grinning when Zayn threw his head back and laughed.

"Fucking dad jokes," Zayn snorted, worming his fingers into Liam's belt loops. "So, are you going to stop talking about it and show me this bed of yours?"

"Right, yes," Liam breathed, like he'd just remembered why they were in his apartment to begin with. He slipped a hand around the back of Zayn's head, distracting him momentarily with his tongue before dragging Zayn down the hall, and into the bedroom.

Liam didn't think his bedroom was anything spectacular, but he appreciated the way Zayn stopped to take in every detail – the huge Avengers poster on his wall, the track and field awards from high school on his dresser, his collection of books, and shit, music.

Zayn made a beeline for the CD's, skimming the titles with his fingertips before he grabbed a disc and made himself at home with Liam's sound system. Usher crooned from the speakers as he nudged Liam toward his own bed. "So, where were we before Niall so rudely interrupted us?"

"Something like this, I think," Liam said, pulling Zayn on top of him as they two of them tumbled onto the sheets. Zayn's lips were chapped, but soft against Liam's which were still a bit sore from the duct tape earlier that day. 

He tasted like coffee and cigarettes; Liam chased it with his tongue, savouring the taste until he realized Zayn was trying to pull his shirt over his head. They pulled away long enough to get their tops off – Zayn started kissing his way down Liam's neck, fingers stroking his sides until Liam was squirming beneath him.

"Ticklish?" Zayn asked, to which Liam kicked him lightly.

"Maybe a little, but what about you?"

"Nope, not at all," Zayn said confidently, but immediately flinched when Liam pressed his fingers into Zayn's side.

"Not at all, huh?"

"Nuh-uh," Zayn agreed as he pushed himself against Liam's chest to escape the fingers. He reached down, and gently guided Liam's hands off his sides lower down to his hips. "Besides, those fingers could be doing so many more things than that."

"Could they now?" Liam smirked, tucking them into the top of Zayn's jeans and playing with the skin there. "I've always been fond of my mouth myself," he added, slipping his fingers to the front of Zayn's pants and slipping the button free.

"Oh yeah? Well why don't you show me what you can do with that mouth?" Zayn asked, reaching up to wrench a hand into Liam's curls and force him downward. 

"Y'know, I can be pretty good with my teeth too," Liam said, nuzzling Zayn's hip a bit with his nose before he flicked the zipper of the jeans up with his tongue, and secured his teeth around it, dragging it down until Zayn could wiggle out of the jeans himself. 

"Yeah, I see that now," Zayn mumbled, his fingers still tangled in Liam's hair, like he was afraid to let go. Liam pressed his nose into the bulge in Zayn's boxer-briefs momentarily before leaving a small bite on his hipbone, right next to the heart tattoo.

He then proceeded to remove Zayn's underwear with his teeth, tugging them down to his knees before he let Zayn kick them aside. "This isn't fair," Zayn groaned at Liam who then kissed his way up Zayn's thighs. "I'm naked, and you're not. And you should be. Like, all the time."

"Glad you think so," Liam huffed as Zayn pushed him away from his thighs. "C'mon, Payne. Off!" As Liam slowly unbuttoned and unzip his pants revealing a pair of batman boxers underneath, Zayn let a wide grin split his face.

Liam, though, wasn't smiling. "I never told you my last name," he said, backing off slightly.

Zayn flushed. "Niall may have mentioned it a few times when he was trying to convince me to bone the hot waiter at Paul's."

"And you remembered," Liam commented.

"He may have showed me a picture to convince me to go," Zayn sighed, reaching up with his hands to pull Liam close again, a whole new land of skin to explore under his fingertips as he massaged the back of Liam's thighs and tugged off the boxers too. "I couldn't forget your face for weeks."

"Glad Niall's looking out for me," Liam sighed, but he ducked down to plant another kiss on Zayn's lips. "A little bit creepy, but I can't complain. You're, like, the best thing I've seen since, er, well, ever, actually."

"Niall also said you'd say that," Zayn said cockily, and then groaned when Liam bit down hard on his collarbone to express exactly how he felt about that statement. "That's going to leave a mark," Zayn sighed wearily.

"Didn't want one?"

"No, keep going," Zayn grinned, letting Liam suck another bruise onto his neck. "I don't mind."

"Good, because I wasn't going to stop," Liam said, pressing insistent kisses down Zayn's front, following the trail of hair down to the swollen cock curved toward Zayn's stomach like a compass pointing north.

"Well what, are you going to suck it or just stare at it all day?" Zayn asked after a moment, and Liam stopped kissing his hips long enough to glare at him. 

"I was getting to that."

"Get there faster," Zayn said, and Liam rolled his eyes and pinched his side because he probably deserved it – then sucked Zayn down in one breath, the tip of his cock bumping precariously against the back of Liam's throat. Zayn made a strangled sound from above him, and Liam would smile, but his mouth was a bit full.

He learned quickly that Zayn loved to pull his hair – he encouraged it, grabbing Zayn's other hand and placing it on his head as well as he bobbed up and down on Zayn's cock, licking up the shaft and pressing wet kisses to the tip, swirling his tongue around to taste.

He also learned that Zayn liked to talk; he babbled non-stop as Liam caressed his thigh with one hand, and massaged his balls with the other, finger pressing gently into the perineum and then back farther against his hole. 

"Li, stop," Zayn gasped, the only noise that made sense in a long time, and Liam groaned, pulling off with a string of spit following his lips. Zayn sighed, leaned down to wipe it away with a careful hand, and pulled him back up for a kiss. "Sorry," he mumbled against Liam's lips. "I kind of wanted this to last, yeah?"

"Yeah," Liam huffed, readjusting Zayn so that he could settle better between his legs. "But I was having fun there." 

"I'm sure we could have plenty of fun up here too," Zayn grinned between kisses, "and I won't want to come all over your fucking face."

"I wouldn't mind," Liam said, kneading at Zayn's ass as he talked, hitching Zayn's legs up higher so he could thrust gently between Zayn's legs, his cock bumping against Zayn's hole once, twice, three times as Zayn's slid against Liam's stomach. "Maybe we could, you know, after," Liam said, letting Zayn go for a moment as he rummaged in the drawer next to his bed and pulling out a tube of lube and a condom.

"Y-yeah," Zayn stuttered, "Yeah, let's, uh, yeah." 

"You want this, yeah?" Liam asked softly, popping the cap from the bottle and coating his fingers liberally. 

"Please," Zayn let out a high-pitched whine, and Liam grinned down at him wolfishly.

"Turn over for me," Liam commanded, and Zayn sucked in a deep breath before turning over onto his stomach – Liam took his clean hand and lifted Zayn's hips off the bed, leaning over him to kiss his shoulder blades. "Okay?" He asked, rubbing the edge of Zayn's hole with the lubed up finger.

"Just fucking do it," Zayn growled, his voice gone low and gravelly, and Liam leaned over to suck on Zayn's neck again as he pressed the finger in. "You don't need to go so fucking slow," Zayn moaned, his voice raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, just, fuck, Liam," Zayn gasped through his teeth as Liam stretched him out with a second finger, hitting his prostate on the second try. "Right, fuck, ah, there," he panted, hips canting on their own. Zayn reached down to squeeze his cock, to which Liam gently batted his hand away.

"No touching," he demanded, and in retaliation, inserted a third finger into Zayn's ass. The sound he produced was deadly; it sent a shock through Liam, straight down his spine and to his cock, neglected and hard between his legs. 

"Fuck, c'mon Leeeeeyum," Zayn's voice cracked every other word. "I'm good, just, c'mon, fuck-" he choked on his own tongue as Liam sucked a mark into his shoulder. 

"Wanna open that for me then?" Liam asked, using the hand that was clutching Zayn's hip to nudge the condom toward him.

"Yeah, got it," Zayn mumbled, hands fumbling with the package – he dropped it twice as Liam tweaked that spot inside him again and again, feeling Zayn's body shudder beneath him. "Can you stop that?"

"Sorry," Liam apologized, not sorry at all as he slowly withdrew his fingers. "Turn around?" Zayn complied, flipping over so that he could slide the condom onto Liam. "Like this?" Liam asked, and Zayn just glared at him.

"Just get inside me." Liam bit his lip, puffy and red from the kissing (and duct tape) to stop himself from laughing. 

"Yes captain," he said, and if his hands weren't busy hoisting Zayn's legs up around his hips, he'd have saluted him too. He lined himself up, slowly pressing into Zayn despite his protests.

"You don't have to go so slow," Zayn said again, to which Liam smiled and leaned over to kiss him.

"I know, but I want to, yeah?"

"Okay," Zayn said, voice cracking again as Liam bottomed out. 

"Breathe, Zayn," Liam reminded him, holding still and stroking Zayn's side for a minute – Zayn looked like he was panicking, just a little bit. "Back in the car earlier, Niall wasn't lying, was he? He wasn't talking about me."

"What?"

"This is your first time," Liam said, and when Zayn's eyes fell shut and his eyelashes fluttered against his rapidly reddening cheeks, Liam knew. "I'll make it good," he said, leaning over to press a kiss onto each of those eyelids.

"You already have," Zayn said; he sounded unbearably soft and vulnerable then, under the slants of sunlight from Liam's partially open bedroom window. 

"Well it's about to get better," Liam said, nipping lightly at Zayn's ear. "Can I move?"

"Yeah, oh God, please," Zayn groaned, and that was all it took for Liam to shift his hips and pull out, before slamming back into him. Zayn made a gasping noise, body shaking as he moved with Liam, pushing back with every thrust as Liam hit his sweet spot again and again. 

"Gonna come," Liam groaned after a few minutes of Zayn's fingers scratching at his back – he was sure to have a good set of scratch marks to show off later, though nothing like the way he marred Zayn's neck.

Zayn's eyes flew open so he could look Liam right in the eye. "Do it."

Liam tried his best not to collapse directly on top of Zayn, but mostly failed as Zayn pulled him down, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Liam pulled out, tied off the condom, tossed it aside, and returned his attention to Zayn.

"You said you wanted to come on my face?" Zayn's eyes widened comically; he looked a bit like someone had scrambled his brains with his eggs for breakfast. "I guess that's a yes," Liam chuckled, fitting himself back between Zayn's legs.

"S'not going to take much," Zayn admitted – he threw his arm over his eyes, but then removed it, like he just realized he needed his eyes to watch Liam. 

"Want to do it yourself?" Liam asked, teasing him with his fingers pressing in and out of Zayn's hole, fondling his balls, and dancing up the shaft to swirl at the precum gathered at the tip. "Or do you want my hands? My mouth?"

"Fuck, I don't – Liam – just do something," he groaned. Liam nodded and gently wrapped his palm around Zayn, a bit harder than he usually liked it himself, pumping up and down until he felt Zayn tense. "Shit, shit, shit, Li-" Zayn cut himself off with a moan.

Liam opened his mouth, catching a bit as he gently stroked Zayn through it, his left cheek and lips getting the worst of it as Zayn came apart in his hands. Afterward, he licked his lips and crawled up Zayn's body to lay a few filthy kisses on him – Zayn licked his way into Liam's mouth, and Liam smiled into the kiss, knowing Zayn could taste himself on his tongue.

"You're positively filthy," Zayn said softly, awed. Liam only blushed, grabbing a towel from the floor to wipe his face off. 

"Sorry."

"No, God, don't be," Zayn huffed. "You're like, a totally different person in bed than I expected." Liam shrugged, collapsing onto the bed next to Zayn. 

"So are you, though. Like, I think everybody is, in some way," Liam said shyly as he ran his hands over Zayn's body, never stilling, like he didn't want it to be over. 

"Thank you," Zayn said suddenly, dropping his eyes like he didn't want to look at Liam. "For not freaking out at me when you found out it was my first time. I didn't mean to let it get this far – thought we'd just, like, make out in the car and jerk each other off or something. Like, I've done that before."

"No, thank you," Liam smiled, pulling Zayn in close and burrowing into his neck. "You're just, you're so easy to talk to, like, it just worked, you know? I wasn't worried about you – I knew if you didn't want it, you'd tell me."

"You're right, I would've," Zayn said, pressing a kiss to the top of Liam's head.

"That's what I like about you," Liam yawned into Zayn's shoulder, making him chuckle. 

"I could start listing the things I like about you, but we'd be here until next week."

"I just met you this morning," Liam reminded Zayn. "You barely know me."

"What if I said I'd like to," Zayn asked, as Liam started sucking another hickey into his shoulder. "You're already trying to mark me up like I belong to you." Liam turned bright red, his flush reaching past his neck and shoulders, making Zayn chuckle. 

"Then I'd say I'd like that too," Liam whispered, his breath tickling Zayn's neck.

"Good," Zayn murmured. "And maybe I should've done this, like, two hours ago before we destroyed your sheets, but, uh, did you want to go out with me sometime, on a real date? Not to like, some shitty free concert with too many people where Niall's watching us kiss in the car through the window."

"As long as Niall isn't there, I'll go anywhere," Liam said.

"Would you come see Napalm Death with me?"

"Well, here's the thing… I don't really like Napalm Death," Liam admitted. "I just got so excited you were talking to me that I think my brain to mouth filter stopped working for a moment."

"I know," Zayn laughed, pulling Liam even closer if possible. "Man, the look on your face when we put that CD on in the car was priceless." Liam cringed.

"I'm glad you found my embarrassment entertaining." 

"Also, I saw your CD collection, remember?" Zayn added, and Liam blushed again, remembering how Zayn had run for his music the moment he stepped into the room. "Which is fine, really," he added as an afterthought. "I like Usher too."

"Oh, uh, that's cool," Liam grimaced. "Except, you know, I really want to take a shower 'cause my face is feeling pretty gross right now, and we can't have Usher on in the bathroom since I don't have portable speakers."

"Maybe I should just bring some over next time," Zayn smiled, helping Liam off the bed. "I feel like I'm going to be spending a lot of time here."

"Just leave the Napalm Death in the car and we're good," Liam cringed, pulling Zayn toward the bathroom. "Now do you think I could fuck you in the shower before Louis shows up on my couch again?"

"That was Louis? The irrelevant dishwasher? The guy who taped your mouth shut?"

"He might also be my best friend, and the person who gave me the Napalm Death shirt. You're probably going to have to meet him properly one day, especially if we're going to date."

"Hmm, I guess that'd be okay," Zayn grinned. "He did put you in the shirt that made me talk to you."

"We would've talked regardless thanks to Niall though," Liam noted, turning on the water and dragging Zayn under the spray with him.

"But I liked that shirt," Zayn grinned, catching Liam's lips under the spray. 

"That's great," Liam hummed. "You can keep it. It's too small for me anyway." 

Zayn's fist pump was so enthusiastic he nearly knocked Liam on his ass.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually love Napalm Death. I've seen them six times in four different countries in the last three years.  
> My own [Napalm Death t-shirt](http://instagram.com/p/pfdUrOrnAV/) was acquired at a metal festival in Germany; since then, it's seen over a dozen countries, countless train, bus and ferry rides, music festivals, concerts, and outdoor adventures with me. It's probably the closest thing I have to a favourite shirt. The sleeves ripped off on a hot summer day at a hardcore punk festival in Ieper, Belgium. There's a hole in the stomach from that time I got too drunk with an old friend in Prague, and a tear in the side from the night I hopped a fence to escape from the police in a small town outside Vancouver. If I had another chance to see Napalm Death, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. But I don't think I'll ever love another Napalm Death shirt as much as this one.
> 
> If someone wants to talk heavy metal with me, or wants to prompt me, or wants me to gift them fic, or even just say hi and welcome to the fandom -- I'm [@Munnoaster](http://twitter.com/Munnoaster) on twitter and [chloroform dreams](http://chloroformdreams.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated.


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